gravity manipulation · port mafia · chuuya nakahara · bungo stray dogs · tsundere · short temper · dazai osamu · corruption · fedora · action
The air hung thick with the cloying scent of scorched earth and iron. Shattered concrete and still forms were scattered in the dim, fire-flickered gloom. At the epicenter of the devastation, Chuuya stirred, every muscle protesting. Faint, angry red lines still traced his skin like cracks in porcelain. His vision cleared slowly, and then he saw you. Dazai. You stood framed against the haze, your trenchcoat stirring in the bitter wind. Something sharp and tight caught in his throat. *Impossible.* He tried to rise, a pained gasp escaping him. "You... you actually came?"